The Sins of our Fathers
by CrystalCard
Summary: Oneshot Human!AU. After being tricked onto a plane by their Aussie co-worker, Ludwig and his friends find themselves in front of one of the most unique museums in all of Melbourne. There, they are confronted with the mistakes of the past... and the sins of their fathers.


_**The Sins of our Fathers**_

A half an hour trip from one of the suburbs in Melbourne to the main city would long and boring. A day-long trip to Australia from various central European countries was just plain agonising. Add in a whining Italian, a narcissist, a bystander that agrees with everyone and a guy who despises your very existence was torture. With the entire group having not eaten anything since they left Berlin and irritation and tension between them high, it was only a matter of time before someone snapped.

Ludwig was at his wits end, if Feliciano complained about hungry he was or his brother declared his 'awesomeness' one more time, he was going to strangle someone. Maybe he would have been able tolerate the noise a bit better if Lovino, Feliciano's twin, wasn't sending him death glares from the other isle of the bus, the noise and disruption would be a bit more tolerable. It was times like this that the German wished he had Kiku's ability to ignore the commotion going around him and plunge himself into the book he was trying to read.

'_This trip better be worth it.' _Ludwig mentally seethed while Feliciano continued to wail about how much he missed his pasta.

The five of them had been sent half way across the world by one of their colleagues, an Australian named James. He had said that it would be beneficial for them to visit a certain museum in his homeland and had herded the group onto a plane before anyone could protest. Once in the island nation, they had no choice but to follow the instructions that James had left for them with their plane tickets. They had no idea where the bus was going. They could be possibly being led to their deaths and they wouldn't have a clue.

The vehicle finally stopped in front of a building across from a broadcasting station. The first thing that Ludwig noticed was the carved steel panels that decorated the columns near the entrance. They depicted people in agonising pain, though if those skeletal figures could be even classed as 'people' to begin with. There was one with dead bodies piled up into wagons and another with dozens of skin-and-bone people being crammed into one tiny bunk. The upper ends of the columns were decorated with barbed wire and six-pointed stars. The name of the place was written in large bold letters across the entrance: Jewish Holocaust Centre.

Each one of them had a personal connection to the Second World War. Kiku's grand-uncle was a kamikaze for the Japanese army, something that he and his family held great pride in. The Italian twins', Lovino and Feliciano, grandmother was a medic during the war and had saved many lives on sides. Ludwig and his brother, Gilbert, on the other hand had a connection to WW2 that they would rather forget…

Their grandfather was soldier in a Nazi concentration camp.

{~~~}

The captain watched as another set people were unloaded from the cattle cars.

'_No.' _He scolded himself. _'They are not people.'_

The captain mentally kicked himself for even thinking that those _vermin _could even be considered human. They were Jews, beasts in human skin. Because of them, Germany lost the Great War. Because of them, their great nation was brought to its knees. Because of them, their economy crashed. Because of them, people were left jobless. Because of them, families were homeless. Because of them, children were dying on the streets. Because of them, they were seen as a joke by the rest of the world.

But not anymore.

The tables were now turned and it was the Jews that were being crushed. The fools had no idea what horrors awaited them the moment they set foot into the camp. Death was waiting for them no matter which path they went, whether it be a quick one in the gas chambers or a long torturous journey through the labour camps. That was what the selection was for.

The captain was tall with a strong and muscular build. He emitted a strong and no-nonsense aura and hated Jews just as much as the next German. He was extremely loyal and always carried out his orders to the T regardless of whether or not he thought it was right. With blonde hair and blue eyes, the captain could be Hitler's poster boy for the 'perfect race'. It helped that the captain believed whole-heartedly every word the left the Führer's mouth.

He continued to watch as the scum separated themselves into males and females and pre-mature beings. The captain couldn't help but notice how similar they were to humans. They moved the same way and spoke similar languages. Some of them even looked German, spoke German and had documents proving that they were German. Maybe they weren't so different after all…

The captain had to physically pinch himself to stop the flow of rebellious thoughts. Jews weren't human, they just acted that way to deceive those around them and make their lives miserable. They were the scum of the earth and the dirt under their feet. Because of them the Germans were weak.

But was this actually the truth?

{~~~}

While museums weren't Ludwig's most favourite things in the world, they were definitely interesting and worth going to. A museum was like stepping into a history book. Artefacts and information on the past were displayed in its exhibits. Achievements were forever immortalised and mistakes never forgotten for all future generations to see.

Yet with every step through the building, more weight was added to Ludwig's already heavy heart. It didn't feel as if he was learning anything and every one of their guide's words were like accusations. Considering that their guide was a Holocaust survivor, they probably were. The dirty glares that from the other visitors were making him feel worst, it was as if he was being blamed for the mistakes of his predecessors.

Gilbert had grown silent and solemn, his eyes had lost their spark. Ludwig had only seen his brother like this when they were paying their respect to the dead. Feliciano had been quietly sobbing the entire tour and had clung to his twin like a leech but for once, Lovino wasn't yelling at him to let go. He became a pillar of emotional support to his more emotional twin and was thanking God that they weren't born seventy years ago. Kiku became detached and emotionless, it was the only way to stop himself from lashing out after all the atrocities that he had heard being committed by one man to another.

The tour ended on a brighter note. Some the survivors of the camps had migrated to Australia to rebuild their lives in a new land and the founding of the country now known as Israel. Despite this, none of the group's emotional states brightened. It was like they were carrying heavy burdens on their backs as they made their way to the auditorium.

'_The sins of our fathers.' _Ludwig thought glumly as an old man skipped to the front.

The man's eyes were weary from having seen so much in his younger years, from having his precious child-like innocence stolen before it was time, yet they had a bright glow to them. The survivor was glad that he could past his story down to the future generations to prevent history from repeating itself.

He gave a warm smile, Ludwig felt as if that he was smiling directly at him, and began his tale.

{~~~}

It had been two days since the results of the selection had been posted. Those that were didn't meet the criteria and too weak to perform the tasks required of them would be marched to Auschwitz to be exterminated. Keeping them in the camp would just be a waste of space and supplies.

The delusion that those who failed the selection would be released and reunited with their families had long since pass. They knew that they were marching to their graves. Many had already fallen into a downwards spiral of despair, giving up all hope and faith. Some committed suicide to elude the gas chambers. All of them knew it was the end, every drop of joy had been extracted from their existence.

All except one.

A-0212 was a young man in its early twenties, not much older than the captain himself. It had a thin and wiry frame and was several times smaller than the other inmates. It was a wonder how it had survived for so long. Unlike the others who shared its fate, it remained bright and optimistic, radiating happiness no matter what the situation. It was a stubborn light that refused to go out, even in the bleakest hour.

This inmate optimism had captured the captain's attention. It had often wondered how this creature could keep its flame burning even when he was being marched to its death. It had smile that never seem to fade. Some of his co-workers had tried to beat light out of it multiple times, but the thing refused to break and denied the officers of their sadistic pleasure.

One the day of the march, the captain noticed a lump of filth sprawled out on the ground behind the bunks. The creature was covered in bruises and lying in a pool of blood. The captain presumed it was dead and went over to load in onto the cart with the other rotting corpses, he refused to have dead things littering the camp.

He poked it with his gun and, surprisingly, it groaned. The captain had to congratulate the creature for surviving such a beating but he was still sending it to the crematorium, with injuries like that, it was impossible for the thing to work.

The thing turned to face him. The captain recognised it as A-0212, who else would be smiling on their death bed?

"I'm going to die soon." Its voice was dry and cracked. The captain was surprised that it still had the strength to talk. "Whether it be by gas or fire or the lack of strength, I'm know I'm going to die."

Despite its depressing words, its smile never left its face and its tone remained bright and cheerful. How something could use such a tone when surrounded by death and despair was a mystery.

"Why are you so bright and joyful?" The captain knew he shouldn't be talking to this thing, it was like talking to a rat or pig, but had to quench his curiosity and this was his last chance.

"Why indeed?" A-0212 replied wistfully, turning to look at the sky. "The sun still rises, the sky is still blue and the clouds are still white. Maybe that's why I'm happy?"

The captain shot it an annoyed and stern look and then sighed. _'Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.' _He thought.

The thing chuckled. "That's only part of the reason I'm happy. I'll tell you what else gives me hope if you promise never to forget my words." The dying creature didn't wait for him to respond and continued talking. "I have family waiting for me whether I live or die. My parents died during the Great War and I know that I'll see them again along with the Father when I die. If by some miracle I live, my wife and child are with relatives in Spain, I'll find them again at the end of the bloody war."

It coughed up blood, adding more stains to its already blood-soaked covering. "By the way, my name's Antonio." Then it was still.

The captain was shocked. The Jew had a name, it had a family and it had people waiting for it. It laughed and smiled and had a reason to keep living. While there were many differences between the two of them, there were similar in many ways that couldn't be ignored.

The captain crouched down and was surprised to find that A-0212, no _Antonio, _still had a pulse. _His_ breaths were short and shallow but they were still there, _he _was alive but just barely. Grabbing the bloodied man by the arms, the captain carefully dragged the _man _away.

_He _had family waiting for him.

{~~~}

The story sounded too good to be true. The man had been thrown onto the wrong cart when he was on the brink of death. The woman who found him took pity on him and nursed him back to health. The war ended a few months later and he had been reunited with his family.

At the end of the old man's tale, everyone began to file out, lightly chatting between them. More dirty looks were shot at both him at his brother, they probably thought that were related to the soldiers that nearly beat the survivor to death.

"Why does every look at us as if we're Nazis?" Gilbert grumbled as he tried to ignore another wave of glares. "I'm too awesome to be a Nazi… and so are you, little bro."

Ludwig sighed as Gilbert continued his rant, sometimes he felt more like the older brother rather than the younger. "But they aren't far off from the mark." He said.

"It's not awesome for them to be blaming us for something we didn't even do." Gilbert exclaimed. "And even if Gramps was on the wrong side of the war, that was the decisions and choices he made, not ours."

"That is correct."

They both jumped as the old war survivor skipped towards them, how a man older than both of their ages combined to have that much energy was a mystery. "Your grandfather was a WW2 captain, correct?" The elderly man asked. "Now, I'm not accusing you for anything. It is written, 'Fathers shall not be put to death for their sons, nor shall sons be put to death for their fathers'."

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, Gramps was a captain in WW2." He answered suspiciously. "But how would you know that? Do you have something against our grandpa?"

The old man chuckled. "Why would have anything against the captain? If it weren't for him, would've burned to death that night. It wasn't a mistake I ended up in the cart headed to town rather than the crematorium." The old man stared up into the ceiling, as if remembering something long ago. "When James told me he knew the man who saved my life, I was overjoyed. I knew it was too much to ask for an old man to travel half-way across the world, so I asked if he could send someone over to pass the message on to him. I know that there's all this fancy technology around these days but I this was too important to be passed through wires and what-nots."

"What did you want us to tell our grandfather?" Ludwig asked. He wanted to know what was so important that they had to be tricked on to a plane.

"Tell him I said 'Thank you,' and if you also remember 'I don't blame you for anything." The old man said before turning away.

The two brothers then saw something clearly tattooed on the survivor forearm:

_A-0212_

{~~~}

**Thanks for reading and I hoped you liked it. This was originally written for English after our class visited the Holocaust Centre that the Axis visit in the story. It's an actual place in Melbourne, Australia (but the story about the captain and the prisoner is made up) so check it out. **

**For anyone that wanted to know, 'James' is my human name for Australia and I'd be happy for any better suggestions for future fics.**

**As for why Antonio is in Australia and not in Spain... I have no clue. I needed a cheery non Axis, Allies or G8 character and he was the first one that came to mind.**

**Once again, thanks for reading and please review. If you want to complain about anything (grammar, accuracy, etc.), be sure to also add how it can be made better. **


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